A Collection of InsanelyShort Drabbles ACISD
by Misled Nymph
Summary: Tortallverse. Written for the LJ community 31days. One a day. Enjoy! R&R!
1. Aug 1 Spark

_Disparagers of love, now hear my song._

**Spark.**_  
_

"She _must _have an heir!"

Welcome to the Isles. For about the millionth time that morning, the angry councilors, _raka _and _luarin_ alike were in an uproar over the now not so newly crowned queen. Well, in all fairness, not over _her_, but over her martial status. Or lack of it.

Suddenly, a prominent conservative, a respected _luarin_ in Rajmaut, said boldly, so all the room could hear, "She _must_ marry soon. The realm cannot wait for the crown to discover her soul mate. For the safety & security of the county, Your Majesty, _marry_.

Before any stunned nobles had time to answer, the bell tower stuck five, and the meeting was adjourned. Somewhat wounded by the man's words, Dovasary Balitang slipped out, quietly and unnoticed.

The half-_raka_, half-_luarin_ monarch crept into her room, knocking into the captain of her own guard. Court gossip had speculated since the coronation for quite awhile that Taybur & Dove had had a _relationship_, but it was, as most Court rumors go, never been proved true. And it wasn't true. However, there had always been a certain spark, a certain sidelong glance by the former young King Dunevon's guardian and protector, and a certain flirtatious glance in her eyes as Taybur recounted the day's security scares. Yes, their defiently was a spark.  
-----  
The next day, the captain of the Queen's Guard and the queen of the Copper Isles announce their engagement.

Again, welcome to the Isles.


	2. Aug 2 Three Little Words

_There is a palace, and the ruined wall/ Divides the sand, a very home of tears/And where love whispered of a thousand years/ The silken-footed caterpillars crawl._

Three Little Words 

Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan stands at the top of the _new_ wall dividing the camp from the forest in New Hope. She overlooks the old wall; dead in a magical attack weeks after the peace treaty had been signed. Suddenly, a horn call comes from below. She looks down, and sees a single soldier, bearing the insignia of the King's Own. Hurriedly, she signals to the watch commander, and the gates are opened. However, it is not the sergeant that enters them, but the lady knight that exits them. And then, only three little words, eight little letters are uttered, quietly, into Kel's ear, eight little letters that make her smile. "I love you."


	3. Aug 3 Come Over

_This is the turbulent sea of your night seething, cross over._

Come Over… 

Sinthya greets another one of the many Cathraki professors who are jumped-up and important enough to take part in 'the plan'. Suddenly, a slave taps Sinthya on the shoulder before jumping back, and uttering a, "His Most Serene Majesty _invites_ you to meet him up on the cliff, Nobility. I am to show you."

Many rocky steps later, the Tortallan lord reaches the top of the cliff. He nods to the other numerous mages, and they acknowledge him as well. At daybreak the next morning, he collapses from exhaustion. Before closing his eyes, he could see the faint outlines of birds in the horizon. The lord becomes giddy with relief, and collapses relieved. _"Soon,"_ he thought, _"Tortall will be _mine_!"_


	4. Aug 4 Bruises

_Tell him who looks for heaven, to run along to hell. _

_Bruises.__  
_  
"Want to collect some bruises?"

It was a perfect, beautiful, lovely day, that is, of course, if you don't remember the cold, or the snow, or the ball to be held later that night. In truth, it was a miserable day. But hey, jousting _always_ made Kel feel better. Add torturing Sir Nealan of Queenscove, and Keladry could _almost_ forget the party. Almost.

Again, "Want to collect some bruises?"

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no NO!" came the strong reply. "It's cold, miserable, and I _don't_ want to go flying. Nor do I want fresh bruises."

Kel breathed a sigh of exasperation. "The indoor practice courts are _warm_, and, can I help it that I'm a better jouster than you?"

"_I_ was enjoying the holidays. You know, the one that comes around every year?" came the cross reply.

"Meathead, I don't _care_ that you like the peace. I wanna joust with _you_!"

With that said, Kel jerked Neal off his bed, grabbed his gear, and brought him to face his almost certain death."


	5. Aug 5 The Box

_Make up for that one: a courageous heart, a bare blade, and a long and yellow bow._

The Box

The Commander of the Queen's Riders, Evin Larse, half-heartedly greets his comrades in the mess hall. He sighs. Today is Miri's birthday, yet Miri is on the Scanran border, helping Kel fight off raiders. He promised her that _he_ would be here for her birthday, but it is now her that is gone. He sighs again, and thinks back to the days where they worked together, laughed together, and their hearts were intertwined together. Suddenly, old memories, unbidden, spring out of the box where Evin so neatly packs them. He thinks of the time Miri had a _fling_ with another knight, when she cooed after Sir Faleron of King's Reach, and when he let her down, but not before wearing her handkerchief when he went jousting. He thinks of archery practice, where he first met Miri, and the spots of trouble she's saved him from. Silently, a single tear falls down his face, and he is thrust back into the present.


	6. Aug 6 In the Name of

A/N: For those of you who know what I'm rambling about, this is a continued epilogue of LK.

_Armed with love's weaponry he rides on beauty's steed._

In the Name of…

_"But Kel... _she's_ waiting for me!"___

Those words echoed in Sir Nealan of Queenscove's brain, as he struggled to fight off the next bandit. In the rush to get to Fort Steadfast, the party of jovial travelers had forgotten to take extra precautions, and had walked straight into a nest of bandits. It was hard to tell whether they were Scanran and Tortallan, but they were serious, and they were out to kill. 

Neal's opponent was a skilled swordsman, and 'Meathead', almost on the brink of giving up, suddenly remembered the peach-shaped face of his love, Lady Yukimi of Queenscove. Suddenly, his resolve hardened, and he no longer was in the present, he was in the future.

Bloody and tired, the group from new Haven that stopped in front of Steadfast's gates early the next morning was led by the mage with the emerald healing power.


	7. Aug 7 Five, Six Five, Six, Seven, Eight!

_You would think that she is walking upon eggs and green bottles._

Five, Six, Five, Six, Seven, Eight!

"Jealous, are we _Naxen_?" came the sneer from Delia of Eldorne. She was followed by her group, and had caught Lianne of Naxen staring at one of the senior girls.

It was ballroom dancing class, and even the most senior girls had _some_ trouble with it. But _she_ didn't. Lorina of Cavall was the convent's perfect showcase dancer, and Lianne of Naxen had been caught staring at the future training master's aunt. 

Lorina was a mean girl, slightly heavy-set, just _slightly_, and a bit clumsy, but when it came to dancing, she was a goddess dancing among mortals.

Lianne was overcome by jealousy with Lorina's ability to dance so well, in just those couple of years at the convent, but she hid it. "Me, jealous? Not a chance!"

A/N: Excuse the dumbness of this, I was seriously stumped.


	8. Aug 8 A Little Lesson

_To love is to kiss, to touch hand or arm or to send letters whose spells are stronger than witchcraft. Love is nothing but this._

A Little Lesson

"Love you too..." Kalasin called out. As soon as Kaddar left her vision, however, the smiling, happy Empress disappeared, and a muttering, angry one took her place. "Of all the stupid... moron... fancy fluttering butterfly... damn... idiotic fittings..."

His Most Serene Majesty had just informed Kalasin that there would be a _major_ ball the next week. Obviously, Kally had gotten _mad_. However, all those days she had spent at the palace were bound to be good for _something_, and she had managed to mask her feelings until Kaddar had left.

Putting on some more _fashionable_ shoes, Kalasin left her rooms in a rage, and stumbled into the library, snatching a book of the nearest table. This one happened to have a marking ribbon placed in it, and the Empress flipped to a page, and began reading. Curiously, she saw _Kaddar's_ handwriting in the margins, and began reading an underlined passage.

_To love is to kiss, to touch hand or arm or to send letters whose spells are stronger than witchcraft. Love is nothing but this.___

She gasped. What _was_ this? Intrigued, she read on. She realized it was a book of love. Suddenly, Kalasin forgot _all_ about the party. She was too busy planning Kaddar's demise.


	9. Aug 9 Love

_I am he whom I love and he whom I love is I._

Love

Yuki knocks on Kel's door. She hears scrambling, muttering, things knocking over, and whispers. When the door opens, she finds sheets rumpled, Keladry _correcting_ Neal in his stance, and a knocked over nightstand. The Lady of Queenscove is not _stupid_, and puts two and two together. However, in an effort to find more proof, she ignores it, and returns the lady knight's greeting, as well as her husband's.

Two weeks later, it happens again. This time, she hears more groans from outside the door, and her mask almost drops. She returns to her rooms, packs, and writes a note:

_Dear Neal,__  
__ I loved you so much. Yet you betrayed me with all your heart. I have evidence, proof, and disbelief. You turned your back on me when I needed you most. I love you Nealan, I _love_ you.__  
__ Love,__  
__ Yuki___

She silently places her ring over the letter, and departs with her unborn child to the Isles.


	10. Aug 10 Untitled

_Quick at your word, all skill, grace/He is, but for death his passion, flawless._

Untitled 

Giggles erupted from the table. Seated around Baldric of Meron was a _crowd_ of court ladies. They were all laughing. Some politely, some uncontrollably. One lady said, between laughs, "You are a ladies' man, my lord." Chimes of agreement rang from throughout the table. Baldric smiled, agreeing with the young lady, before turning his attention on someone else. And so it was every day… Baldric smiling, court ladies gossiping, spinsters disapproving.

However, the powerful, yet crudely trained mage was immersed in a different way of life. Necromancy. Save his mother, who had died young, none knew about it. On his mother's deathbed, he promised to stop with the tinkering of the Black God's domain. However, the pull to necromancy was strong, and before long, Baldric was fully immersed in the art.

One day, he went a little _too_ far…

A/n: Excuse the crap. I'm waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too tired.


	11. Aug 11 Assault

_Recalling a house and a lady, dismount where the winds cross._

Assault 

Nealan of Queenscove stares across the Vassa. He closes his eyes, and sees the old lady with the Gift, and Wyldon, making allowances. He stares at the rushing, murky water, and sees the nights spent on the road, and the teasing jibes made by all. He recalls the grim fights, the sparrows and the dogs, and the strategy planning sessions. He stares into the distant forest, and sees the large stone palace, the hardened villagers, and Irnai. He looks at the sky, seeing the Stormwings swooping past. He looks at his horse, scarred forever with the battle marks, and sees his own mount that fought with him, that died of a disease the winter next. He laughs. It was not battle that had killed his Cinnamon, but a virus that Daine was not able to cure.

Finally, he dismounts, falling onto his knees. He stares at the ground, thinking of only his beloved that was never to be, the lady knight.


	12. Aug 12 Feathered Protectors

Listen to the shiver of wings at your side--it is my desire, and still, still, I am shaking with it.

Feathered Protectors 

A knock sounds on Keladry of Mindelan's door. She opens it, and greets the male that was there. She invites him to cross the threshold, and into her room. He readily complies, closing the door behind him. She embraces him quickly, as though an intruder might come in. They sit next to each other on her bed, hand in hand, conversing about the day's activities. The animated conversation catches and nets the interests of the feathered friends. Hearing a rather loud negative word emerge from the man, the sparrows in turn, show themselves, fluttering to the help of their lady. They attack the man, and go at him in droves. Keladry doubles over in laughter, and dismiss the sparrows quickly. Heeding their mistress's command, the birds disperse, but keep a wary eye on the male human. The lady knight makes a suggestion to the man, which he happily agrees to, they embrace again, before the man takes his leave.

A/N: C'mon, I know people are reading this… Review… please? Quite frankly, I really want some constructive crit. If you're going to flame me, at least take the time to tell me something I can improve on. Click the button and REVIEW!


	13. Aug 13 War on the Home Front

_Believe me, moonlight is the stuff whereof /My lady's limbs are made. I offer proof._

War on the Home Front

The day of the ball was here. Kalasin of Cathrak stood in her rooms, pacing. Of course, the married couple still shared a bed, but anything more than that would be a crime, and cause another heated debate. Finally, Kaddar arrived in their rooms dressed, as a pompous, jumped-up emperor should. Kally took his arm roughly, nearly scratching it, and said in a scathing voice, "Proceed."

Five days of fittings and torture later, Kalasin looked fantastic, something that she would never admit. She was wearing an auburn, strapless dress, with the crinkly bodice and a dress that opened out. Kaddar formulated a forced smile, and said awkwardly, "You look beautiful, you know…"

The Empress answered with a slap, and said, "Of course I do. I'm the Empress. Hello? Now, if you don't get going, I'm going to leave without you." With that, she marched off, leaving a very flustered Kaddar to pick up the pace.

Later that night, after all the nicety formalities had been done, the royal couple walked out onto the balcony, intruding a perfect night with their tensions. They were snapping at each other over the name of a councilor or two, or the opinions of them. Suddenly, a dark, gray, cloud moved, leaving the perfect, full moon to shine on the couple. Kaddar suddenly took Kalasin's arm into his, and gazed up at the sky.

For a minute, or rather, a second, Kally seemed to soften, before hitting the offending limb.

A happy ending? Yeah, right.

A/N: A sorta sequel to my August 8 entry, 'A Little Lesson'


	14. Aug 14 Missive

And my grief at parting from you is like that of the turtle-dove, which brings pleasure to the hot listener, retired in a thickly-leaved tree from the heat of summer, like a singer behind a curtain.

_Missive_

_Dear Raoul,_

_I miss you so. Roald and Shinko are married, and the stupid pomp is driving me out of Tortall! I can't stand all the balls, and parties, and dinners, and whatever else Thayet cooks up for me. I'm even wearing a dress! Yes, it's pretty, and there's no lace on it anywhere, but it's a dress!_

_Now, with the war over, when are you coming back to Corus? I'm getting tired of sitting on my bottom waiting for you. What do I have to do to see you these days?_

_Yuki, Shinko, and I have become fast friends, and I spend a lot of time together. Aside from the border, the realm has been quiet, and the Riders back in town and bored silly. Perhaps one day we'll actually have something to do! _

_Yuki and I are getting tired of waiting for you and Neal. I think we're both thinking about just packing up and leaving._

_Love,_

_ Buri_

_Thayet smiled from her spot in an alcove. True love had finally reached her best friend…_


	15. Aug 15 Reality

_You recognize the fragrance of one you desire and a less obvious sadness._

Reality

Lady Alanna of Trebond and Olau approached, for the umpteenth time in the reccent weeks, her liege lord. He was crying almost, but kept his composure calm. Anyone with sense could tell that it was difficult for him to do so, but he managed. She sat down beside the King, and clasped her hand onto his. Jonathan looked up at his old squire, and gave out a silent sigh of relief.

Since Roald's death, Jonathan had moped around. He tried to show a strong image, but with fewer and fewer knights pledging their fealty each coming day, his hope for a smooth start into his reign had diminished.

Continuing his vigil, Jonathan sat on the stone bench outside a garden, and stared into the forests. Alanna muttered comforting words, and all was well, until of course, reality came back.


	16. Aug 16 Never Again

_I go blindly/As if I am pursuing the beauty of something /Before me but unclear._

Never Again_  
_

Never again.

Never again will Keladry of Mindelan ride. 

Never again.

Neither will she rescue her people,  
from the clutches of Blayce.

Never again will the lady knight of Tortall  
ride off into the enemy's land.

Never again will she cross the Vassa, and cross it again.

Never again will there be a train of people,

Young and old,

Tall and stout.

Never again will she see her parents, her sisters, brothers, cousins, and family,

Never again will she hear the cries

of teases and taunts,

comebacks and flaunts.

Never again will she meet the Scanrans,

cutting them down, band by band.

Instead she will lay to rest in the stomachs,

of crazy, silver, travesties,

never again to draw breath,

in the world she died helping.

Never again.

A/N: wasn't working, so this is late.


	17. Aug 17 Boredom

_As for refined love -- let others claim it. May God, instead, give me contentment._

Bored_  
_

"George…" a half-hearted attempt ended in vain. Lady Alanna of Pirate's Swoop laid on her bed, her husband, the baron, beside her.

" 'Lana, it's our _marriage_, stop fussing, and start _playing_!" the gruff, yet playful reply cut through the air.

Any more protests were silenced, and the couple continued _rolling_ around on the bed. Anyone with any ears that came close to functioning properly could hear the groans coming from the other side of the wall.

The next morning, with the sun smiling through the curtains, the newly wed couple ate breakfast in their bedroom together. While there, Alanna popped the question, "Was last night _really_ necessary?"

And our favorite former thief answered, "Kissing fingertips always bored me."


	18. Aug 18 Yes

My heart is capable of every form/Pasture for deer, a monastery for monks/Temple for idols.

Yes

Lady Keladry of Mindelan sits in her room, reflecting on a Sergeant Domitan of Masobelle. She thinks of all the time they have spent in each other's company, from the ham and cheese turnover, to just merely yesterday. She reads, rereads, and rereads again the crumpled note she holds in her hand, showing her calm Yamani face. However, inside, she is a mess of turbulent seas, one that cannot stop.

She thinks of her years as a squire serving in the King's Own, and the times of fun, danger, and chivalry they had. She thinks of the months she spent on the road, always living with the quick wit and humor of the sergeant. She thinks of the patient Dom, who travels with her to the faraway Yamani temples, closer now because of Shinko. She thinks of his bravery and his wit, his eyes and his body.

She smiles, and says, "Yes."


	19. Aug 19 So mote

Injustice calls to God for pardon; ask him to pardon your injustice.

So mote…

"So mote it be."

The traditional closing of a prayer or a blessing reaches the ears of Page Nealan of Queenscove. He falls in, a beat behind the others, and wonders.

Later that day, Neal escapes to the library, and starts browsing the many filled shelves on the Palace Library. He finds a thick and dusty book, and opens it to a random page. To his surprise, the page before him is on Mithros, and the traditional 'so mote it be'.

Enthralled, he continues reading, and reading, and reading. All sorts of interesting tidbits are included in the book, and legends are included as well.

The next morning, he misses the blessing at breakfast. Mithros bless.


	20. Aug 20 Yes

_I have tasted the bitter and the sweet of affairs/ And walked over the rough and smooth path of days._

Yes._  
_

Sir Knight Alanna of Trebond and Olau sits in her tent. George's proposal flashes back in her mind. What should she say? What should she _do_? What would _people_ say? It wasn't _right_, or _proper_…

Alanna thought back to her very first night in the Dancing Dove, or _Alan's_ first night. She had come a long way from that, but was she ready for this? She thought of all the little rifts she had had with George, but then, all the lemonades and ales she had drunken, sitting in front of Old Solom.

She remembers all the times she had snuck out of the palace, and the little private fighting lessons she had had in order to beat Ralon. She remembers all the hints George had been dropping all those years, and the biggest hint he had dropped just now.

"Yes."


	21. Aug 21 Bother

_Strange things they declared time would reveal in direful summer months._

Bother._  
_

A very frustrated Keladry of Mindelan wakes up today. A very annoyed one greets friends. A very irritable one does her duties, as is expected of her.

If one had actually bothered to talk to her, which wasn't something _anybody_ wanted to do, they would have realized that there were bags under her eyes, and an almost droopy expression that crept into her voice when she wasn't snapping at people. If one had actually had a conversation with her that did not include a dismissal in the first five words, and if that same one was a friend of some sorts, they would have realized that Keladry was having a terrible, horrible, no good bad day.

This was because Keladry, and may some call her crazy, had gone into the Chamber _again_. Not that she _enjoyed_ it of course. Mithros, no! But, the allure of the cryptic message had sent her coming back. Keladry now hated: Scanrans, the Chamber, Maggur, and _Mithros_, BLAYCE!

But then again, when did anybody actually bother?


	22. Aug 22 Fight

_ Sword tells more truth than books; its parting wisdom from vanity. _

Fight.

Wyldon sighed. Why _was_ it that so many pages decided to have philosophical debates these days? Yes, it _was_ true that all the washouts would leave by the end of the first year, but it was the way they got around telling _him_. Mithros bless, he had gotten _so_ tired of 'I fell' that he was wishing- no, praying for a new excuse soon. It would provide some _tiny_ bit of amusement. He remembered _his_ days as a page, and the number of times he gave the traditional excuse. He had _almost_ made it without any scrapes and bruises... _almost_.

He sighed. He supposed that the fights did do him a favor of picking out which ones wouldn't pass the Chamber, but still…

There came a knock on his door, and another group of rowdy pages stood before him.


	23. Aug 23 Look

The sun was a flower, the evening, crescent moons, the arrows were rain, and the swords were lightning flashes.

Look._  
_

There sits a painting in the gallery of the Palace. Vibrant colors explode from its surface, and without a doubt, it is _the_ painting of the year. No one knows who the artist is, and no one wants to. For what enthralls all is the mystery; it was sent to the Palace tied in brown wrapping paper, and a single note stated: _"To be placed where you see fit. Called 'Look'."_

The picture itself is of a battle, that is clear. But which is it? Is it the battle of Port Legann, or perhaps the standoff at Pirate's Swoop, or may it be a simple Scanran skirmish?

But be it certain: The sun was a flower, the evening, crescent moons, the arrows were rain, and the swords were lightning flashes.


	24. Aug 24 Another

_So keep your silence, and know: This man, unless slain, is fated to die._

Another.

Her face contorted with pain and effort, Keladry of Mindelan tried to fight off another Scanran. True, the _war_ was over, but the hatred of the Scanrans was not. These little raids had been going on for a while now, and were getting ridiculously tiring. As she sliced through yet another Scanran, one more took the dead one's place. Finally, all the Scanrans were lying on the grounds just outside New Hope, and all were dead, or almost. However, for every ten, Kel could see one of their own, and that was what got her most of all. Sighing, she turned away, and went to organize a burial duty.


	25. Aug 25 Call

_May the morning clouds refresh you at this distance, 'and may abundant rains comfort you forever!__  
_

**Call.**

In the Palace Library, there is a book of prayers. It is dusty, and worn. The red leather binding is torn, and the gold lettering, once fine, has dulled. However, if opened, the ink is still dark, the letters still strong, and the words still clear. The Book of Prayers was established in the time of our forefathers, long, long, ago. Page after page is filled with the prayers of many, desperate for a sliver of hope in the days. Over time, it has been shoved and pushed into a small bookshelf, instead of its original niche at the back of the library, on a table, open for all to read and record. The last prayer in this book was the one made during the Great Famine, and was a common one in those days: _May the morning clouds refresh you at this distance, 'and may abundant rains comfort you forever!_


	26. Aug 26 Hope

_Your place in my heart is the whole of my heart. _

Hope._  
_

Princess Shinkokami of the Yamani Isles is bored. Very, very bored. She is sitting at the Royal Table now, pretending to be interested in her betrothed's ramblings. She was _moderately_ suprised when her uncle had ordered her to marry the Crown Prince of Tortall, and when he had named the two ladies that were to have accompanied her.

She is hoping that Yuki, or even Haname would come and save her from the boredom, as it is getting harder and harder to mask by the minute. She turns an attentive ear to Roald, as he tries to engage her in a conversation. He fails.

Glancing around, she spots Yuki looking at her. Subtly, she tries to covey a plea for help. It works, and Yuki turns to corners of her eyes. She approaches the betrothed couple, and in a maidenly voice that was _most_ unlike her, invites the couple to join her in the bookroom.

Hours later, the royal couple has become better acquainted through the joyous talk of the evening, and the gate was opened.


	27. Aug 27 Snap!

_Where now are kings and where are the men who passed this way before you? _

Snap!_  
_

"_Where_ are they?" a frustrated spymaster snapped at the newest spy in their court.

Stroke & slap hadn't worked, honeying her voice hadn't worked, threats hadn't worked, blackmail, and being just plain mean… None of it had worked, and quite frankly, Alianne Crow was at her wit's end. However, the spymaster of the Isles was careful not to show it.

In her head, the wheels of her brain were moving…

Again, the accused repeated the line that had grown, oh, so familiar, to Aly, "My king will save me, and I will be done."

Then, in all of her work as Dove's spymaster these years, Alianne Crow snapped as she never had before. Abruptly, she stood up, pushing the table over. The spy remained unfazed. Aly strode out of the room, stopping just before she crossed the threshold, "Where is your king now?"


	28. Aug 28 Love

_In sorrow to be here again, I am loving you. _

Love…_  
_

"She was... beautiful..." Keladry of Mindelan trailed off, not knowing what to say to her once lover, Nealan of Queenscove. The church was dim, and people were crying, and sobbing, and weeping, and Kel had to _get out of there_! However, her heart said that she should stay, and help Neal get over things... Then again, who else would make Neal eat his vegetables? Keladry sighed… It wasn't that she didn't _miss_ Yuki, but it was _stuffy_, and _boring_! If Kel knew Yuki, she wouldn't have liked this at all… What could you do?

And yet, Kel could not help feel _attracted_ to Neal. She tried to reprimand herself, and to tell her that Yuki had been her friend, and that, well, she was being spiteful. But still, the curves of Neal's body made him _very, very_, attractive.

The next morning, the newest court scandal was revealed.


	29. Aug 29 Thorns

_Colored is the rose of spring, white the rose of December._

Thorns_  
_

As she put up her hair, Yukimi of Queenscove discovered a single, plucked, rose on the table in front of her. She wonders what it is for, for there is a vase not even a few paces away. Examining the rose now, she discovers a thin sliver of parchment wrapped around the stem, and realizes that the stem is devoid of thorns. Unwrapping the parchment, she finds a note, in what was obviously the writer's best handwriting:  
_A white rose, to match the fairness of your skin, and the snow that is falling around us. –Neal_

_Yuki smiled with the simple act of love. Her days had become monotonous and routine since the years that she had married Neal. She longed to be a part of Shinko's ladies again, free, and laughing. She was almost shunned in Queenscove, and Neal, who was often away, was the only person she could connect to that was actually around._

_Picking the rose up, a small spot of blood appears. It seems that the rose, like beauty, still has thorns._


	30. Aug 30 Here we go again

_How strange that we, perambulating dust, should be the vessels of eternal fire._

Here we go again…_  
_

"But... why _me_?" a puzzled Alan tried to make sense of the day's events.

" 'ell lass, ye a lassie tryin' to 'come a knight... make 'ye own 'ductions!" an amused George tried to patiently explain the appearance of the Goddess.

"But… _surely_ there must be other girls that the Great Mother can turn her eyes on," Alanna protested, _still_ not believing that she was worthy of the Mother's attention. "How can _I_, a mere girl…"

She was cut off, slightly impatiently, by George, "Don't 'ye get it? 'Ye a lassie 'comin a knight. 'Ye something special ye is!"

Alanna sighed again, the gears turning in her head.

As she opened her mouth again, George shook his head. This was going to be a _long_ night.


	31. Aug 31 Sunset

_Peace it is, till the raising of the dawn._

Sunset.

As Keladry of Mindelan looks out over the gates of New Haven, she catches a beautiful sunset. The golden dawn of the sun blends in with the pink and red highlights, and the entire sky looks like something out of a picture. Captured, the lady knight stares, noting each fold in the color, each wrinkle of the sky.

It has been a long day, and she is tired beyond belief. The squabbling of the refugees have reached her ears, and even thinking about the mounds of complaints and reports on her desk gives her headaches. The temptation to slip into the forest, and lose herself in the green forest is great, but the duty to her people is even greater. As the sun slowly sets beyond the trees, and the sky around her darkens, Kel notices that she is slipping into slumber land, and that the shores of sleep are sailing closer.

Keladry savors the time watching the sunset, as she knows that such calmness is rare. As soon as the tip of the sun reaches the trees, and can be seen no more, the commander of New Haven walks off, overcome with a feeling of peace.

A/N: And that's a wrap! August is finished! Please, please, if you _have_ been reading this for the past month and _haven't_ dropped a review, do so now… please?


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